


Take

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis returns hardened, but Ignis is always loyal.





	Take

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Sudden need to read about Ignis riding Noct's dick while he's sitting on the throne ... + fully clothed + biting/dirty talk/possessive!Noct” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8282926#cmt8282926).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ignis shudders as he sinks right to the base, taking his king’s cock as far as it’ll go. The old oil they’ve found in Insomnia’s ruins doesn’t quite quench the burn, and he probably didn’t stretch himself quite wide enough—he’d forgotten exactly how _large_ Noctis feels. Noctis’ blunt teeth graze across the shell of his ear, and a deep rumble sounds out of Noctis’ throat. Ignis wishes for the hundredth time that he could _see_ how handsome his king’s become.

He’s mapped it with his fingers before. He can feel the short stubble tickling the back of his neck. Noctis’ hands are rougher now, stronger, and they wrap thickly around Ignis’ middle, dragging him back, though there’s nowhere else to go. They’re glued together, though Ignis arches out, compensating for his height with the arc of his body. Noctis’ hands trail down his jutting hips to smooth across his thighs, and Noctis spreads them wider—as wide as they can be. Facing outwards, he feels wholly _on display_ , even though they’re both fully clothed. Their pants are pushed down _just_ enough to manage this. Noctis is reclining back in the grand throne of his father, and Ignis is sprawled out on his lap like a royal concubine. 

He’s no longer lovely enough for one, if he ever was. But Noctis still seems to take pride in arranging him, and as Noctis gives a little thrust that snatches the breath right out of Ignis’ throat, Noctis hisses, “Damn, you feel good.” Ignis shivers with the praise, happy for it—all he’s ever wanted is to please his king. Noctis mutters against the shell of his ear, “So tight, so hot... like you were built to take me.” Ignis likes to think he was.

Ignis is already uncomfortably hot, but he still leans back into Noctis’ warmth. Noctis gives him another subtle thrust upwards and orders: “Ride me.”

Ignis tries. He really does. He rolls his body as best he can, rocking his hips to take Noctis in greedy circles, clenching his thighs to rise up when he can and dropping his weight down again, but it’s difficult from his position. He doesn’t know where to put his hands so keeps them in his lap and uses only his legs. Each time Noctis’ hard cock is shoved inside him, he stutters for a heartbeat, breath caught and pulse quickening, but he tries to be steady, to be fluid. He doesn’t want to focus on how _good_ it feels to have Noctis deep inside him—he only wants to _obey_. He wants to satisfy his king. He does his best. But Noctis growls, “Harder,” and Ignis _tries_.

When Noctis’ fingers start digging almost cruelly into his thighs, hips trembling beneath him, Ignis licks his lips and murmurs, “If I could only face you...” It would be easier.

Noctis snorts, easily dismissing it, then darkly purrs, “But if you’re curled up with me, our audience won’t get to see your lovely body.” 

Ignis tenses for a brief moment, worry flickering through him—he can’t _see_ anything but darkness, and for all he knows, Gladiolus and Prompto have wandered back to watch. If they have, they’re dead quiet—or just too far away for Ignis to catch over the wide halls’ echoing panting and wet squelching, and the slapping sounds every time Ignis drops down. At least there aren’t many others who _could_ be around to watch.

But Noctis only lets him stew for a few thrusts, then chuckles, “Don’t worry, Iggy... I wouldn’t really share this gorgeous sight.” A kiss is pressed against Ignis’ shoulder, one that makes him glow as much as the words. He’s so wondrously relieved that Noctis can still take pleasure in his body, even though it’s aged and scarred and never was that much to begin with. Noctis continues huskily, “You’ve always been mine alone...”

Ignis is grateful for that. He would be no one else’s. He resumes his focus on riding Noctis’ hefty cock. He can tell from the way Noctis’ body twitches that it wants to join in, to slam up into him, but clearly, Noctis wants to have Ignis do all the work this round. Ignis has never shied away from working for his king. He eagerly does his duty while Noctis drawls, “...It’s too bad, though. Even if you can’t see me, I can see how pretty you are, even now...” One hand lifts to touch Ignis’ cheek, just beneath his jacket, trailing down the long, jagged scar that mars his face. Ignis shudders at the contact and hangs his head. His pulse is racing so fast, skin so hot. He clenches around Noctis’ dick in gratitude, and Noctis hums with appreciation. 

Noctis’ hand runs down Ignis’ front, slipping around his arms to draw across his chest, the other hand joining so he can make two fists of Ignis’ pecs. The rough treatment doesn’t slow him. Noctis pauses at the buttons of Ignis’ shirt, and for a moment, Ignis thinks he’ll be stripped down to nothing. But then Noctis just carries right on, down over Ignis’ stomach, and dips into the boxers stretched across his lap. 

Ignis breaks when Noctis takes hold of his shaft. His voice cracks, his groan horribly _wrecked_. Noctis gives his neck a short bite, then mutters, “I should’ve done this years ago.” He should’ve. Ignis has always been _his_. He starts to pump Ignis’ cock in time with Ignis’ thrusts and continues, “Of course, then we couldn’t have had the throne alone like this.... Now, I could fuck you here all night...” Ignis moans louder and tosses his head over Noctis’ shoulder, wanting to give himself entirely to every last one of Noctis’ dark whims. Noctis sighs, “But then... you’re much too tight for me to last that long. At least you’ll come first. You always do for me.” 

He bites Ignis’ ear none too gently and yanks at Ignis’ collar, pulling it back to expose his shoulder. Ignis is close from both the pounding in his ass and Noctis’ sensual voice rolling over him. But Noctis seals it when he orders, “Come,” just before sinking a fierce bite into Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis does immediately. He cries out, “ _Noct!_ ” and arches up, bursting all over Noctis’ hand. Noctis pumps him right through it whilst bruising in a mark that will likely last for days. Ignis’ orgasm is brilliant and magical. 

He’s barely finished when Noctis comes inside him. Noctis’ wild roar is muffled by Ignis’ skin, and Noctis keeps himself there while he finally lets his hips go, stuttering up to pound out his own release. Ignis’ spent body gladly takes it. When Noctis is finally finished too, collapsing back into the throne, Ignis slumps with him. Noctis leaves a wet patch on his shoulder to kiss his temple instead.

After a long moment of heated panting for breath, Noctis murmurs, quiet and newly tender, “I missed you, Iggy.”

Ignis doesn’t have the words. But he answers anyway, “I love you.” Always has. He’s sure Noctis knows that. 

Noctis gently turns his face for a kiss, and they stay like that for a while, joined together in the darkness.


End file.
